march 31 sutra

it's all you

but you must know it in your neural intuitive bones

and not through knowledgeable calcified thought—

foolosophy is for tomorrow;

nothing is now.

sutra

awareness—

awareness of awareness,

awareness of existence,

existence existing,

existence aware,

awareness of awareness

—awareness

much ado sutra

electrickster!

you are not the bulb—

in the current consciousness being buzz.


look into your window and feel your open space.

shake your trees and lift your clouds.

follow your inner bird.


surrender all personal identification—

the univana!

to be before the word is all to be—


much ado about nothing indeed.

clown sutra

the body is the mouth of the universe in which it tastes itself—

looks like earth and tastes like love.

venus and mars disappearing in the one saliva—

upon swallowing itself, it never was.

byte meets light.


tell how it really tastes—

regurgitating 'truths' is not truth.


we're all sacred clowns on this bus.

identification with thought is the antichrist.

all politics are apocalyptic but love is the end of the world.

conception is the primal concept.

the body is an amplifier and love is its song; any distortion is in the mind.


love. don't think about it—

breathing light.

a completely pointless sutra

open sesame; who's on first.

some words point the way only when you reach their point upon the way; until that point they just appear completely pointless.

enlightenment isn't ironic.

thought is first to claim it knows the point despite the point what thought knows is always besides the point.

irony is the last refuge of mind avoiding void.

words point away from thought to places thought calls feelings, intuition, love, and the like, but ultimately wordless.

smoke gets in the eyes.

words like being, i-am, witnessing, consciousness, awareness, satcitananda, kingdom of God, and many others thought will claim to know—

pavlov's coyote.

and thought does know, but that knowledge is, again, beside the point.

the war on reality just about sums it all up.

enlightenment is such a point. it's not a name so don't wear it out.

then again, what's the point?

i don't know; that's on third eye.

the floating world sutra

spring is only three days old and already the peepers are growing hoarse.

the windows are wide open tonight and the darkness settles by my feet.

the reflection in those windows has disappeared leaving me nothing of my self.

the rumble of a motorcycle on the distant interstate is passing like a summer storm.

the nearby river is invisible but one can always feel it in the air.

it's not that i've been here before but this airy space has never changed.

it'll be thirty-nine years tommorow that my father passed away.

it's three months yesterday that my mother left this floating world.

she came to visit in a dream last night, old and fading, and asked to see the lake for one last time.

i woke before we got there and then refused to dream that dream again knowing that it's just a dream.

tomorrow when i drive by that manifested river, my mother and father will be my thoughts.

water water everywhere and now and then a lovely light illusive wave.

sutra poetics sutra

all knowledge about nonduality is really knowledge about, in, and by duality.

if it ain't got that swing it don't mean a thing.

it's not about the words; it's about the curiouser and curiouser spaces inbetween.

untie the tongue into a not.

i want words that can't be said.

it's not about automatic writing; it’s about not about.

unthinking thought into intuition—

love is the practice and love is the goal.

the heart of heartness—

one and done and none knows one.

i am that that doesn't say i am.

more powerful than a loco without its motive,

able to leap these words with a single bound—

every sentence is a death sentence; avoid all periods

a whole lot of sutra

here comes the mind king.

thought divides and conquers.

the world is currently in reruns.

six billion light tears from now

if you don't like the weather, try however—

rosemud catch-2 there's only one 'm' in m&m's

the silence of the peepers.

ice is always water; you are always light—

just intuit! all words lead to aum.

a whole lot of shakti goin' on—

when e met mc2

when shiva met shakti.

my heroes have always been non-doers—

sleepless in deep sleep.

the sesame seed sutra

six billion absurdists exiting a beetle—

considering total war is the inevitable

result of self-identification with the divisive

process of thought we call a person.



matter is the evolution of mind.

manifestation is limitation.

birdsong is the call to pure being—

the sesame seed of consciousness opening.


you are the universe resting in the shade of its own deep space.

allow intuition to blossom into the flower of universe

and realize its petals of love and pollen of god—

the moon waxes poetic but wanes in wisdom.

heavy sutra

it isn't anything, but it's not nothing.

the cloud doesn't realize the sky

—untranslatable—

the sky realizes itself containing a cloud.

a person is an argument.

when the cloud begins to understand

—all question, no answer, one exclamation—

it becomes a wisp disappearing into sky.

mirror mirror that is all.

there never was a cloud

—tipping point—

just a disturbance called a cloud.

the emptiness of glass

witnessing beingness

—believed to be a cloud—

not the heavy reflection.

beingness witnessing

the reflection is the glass

—no cloud, just sky—

light loves light.

the nameless sutra

only the nameless can be named—

unthink the thinkable and know the unknown;

if something is real, it doesn't need a name.

the needle is the truth; the bubble is the world—

it's a mute point.


awareness feels.

thoughts are drunk with thought.

people really believe themselves.

house of beliefs—every one is a joker.

there is nothing to which one can point to


as anything or nothing—

everytime I say it's a dream,

you say it's real;

everytime I say it's real,

you say it's a dream.


the light-dream dreams about light.

when the light-dream realizes it is light,

it never was—

the light-dream forming

intricate dimensions toward


instantaneous awakening to that.

you have taken 14 billion rock-years

to see that you're a light-now—

this is it;

light the lights.

the faceted sutra

calling one in none loves all undone.

there are five eyes to every story.

because nothing is there, everything has a name.

this sutra is not a sutra and thus it's called a sutra.

the ice-hole sutra

the mind is a hole in the ice.

there's nothing here and all of it is mine,

and everything is mine because there’s no one here

to argue with a thought is identification with its opposite thought—

no thought is the truth.

all the mountainous philosophies

and highest peaks of all religions

do not amount to a hill of being.


translation is never faithful to the original;

thus, mountains and rivers are not

and you are not you—

the name is proof that it's not there.

you can think your way negating all duality

but you will never think your way to nonduality.

speaking its name is calling its bluff—

a nirvana for your thoughts.

the ipso sutra

thought-forms of the world, unscrabble!

don't dwell in thoughts; walk right through them.

this is the way of the dharma homeless.

there is no argument except

that in the memory of what happened—

but nothing happened; happening always is.

ipso facto magnum opus rigor mortis terra firma and ad infinitum,

there is no arguing what is;

what is, is, without argument,

happening.

caveat emptor alter ego habeus corpus modus operandi,

arguing may be happening

but there is no argument.

mea culpa corpus christi a priori in absentia in loco

parentis pro bono vice versa opus dei in flagrante delicto,

e pluribus unum!

et cetera.

attach to this...

the yada yada sutra

words are just more words

a pre-existing uncondition

self-defeating prophets—

bodhisatellites

writing blanks

sufferbling

mindiverse

innerware

emptibliss

nodacious

anandaland

mu-beams

spacetimelessness

yada-dharma-doo!